


hands between the legs

by pallidiflora



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Eavesdropping, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-08
Updated: 2012-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 16:19:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallidiflora/pseuds/pallidiflora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack isn't jealous, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hands between the legs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leocantus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leocantus/gifts).



At 4:01 AM Jack can hear Yusei's bedsprings creaking. The walls are thin, their beds sharing the same wall, so sometimes he hears them briefly as Yusei sinks down to sleep; this time, however, it's rhythmic, repeated, in a _one-two one-two_ pattern. It started before this, of course. He could hear them—Yusei and Bruno, that is—whispering ("do you think everyone's asleep?", "I'm sorry, I don't really know what I'm doing", and worst of all, nauseating in its school-boy candidness, "I want to make love to you"), and then rustling, gasping. Clandestine things, furtive hands-between-the-legs things, mouths on collarbones.

  
It started before this, even—the two of them coming up the stairs together, clanking and tapping from downstairs; before that, Bruno's hand brushing Yusei's, a hand on his shoulder, their knees touching. Now Jack can hear Yusei moaning, quiet but guttural, suppressed in the throat; worst of all, Bruno panting—like a golden retriever, Jack thinks uncharitably, all tongue, practically humping Yusei's leg.

  
Jack isn't jealous, though. Jack doesn't get jealous—to be jealous is to want something someone else has, and Jack has everything he will ever need, a king's share of enviable things. (This is what he tells himself, lying on his side, his back to the wall, his ribcage constricting.) He could make noise, pace his bedroom, walk into the hall, somehow make his presence known, and perhaps this would stop them. It gives him savage pleasure to think of this, the two of them pulling apart, red-faced and embarrassed, like adolescents caught by a parent. He won't do this, though, because hearing Yusei getting fucked thoroughly in the next room makes him hard beyond belief, and he would rather lie here, stroking himself beneath his bedsheets. If they're going to be so obvious, he reasons, it's his right to listen—like an eavesdropping, third-wheel equivalent of the _droigt du seigneur_ , or something like that.

  
So he imagines Yusei, and he listens, squeezing his cock. Is Yusei on his back, ass raised, knees hooked over Bruno's biceps, canting his hips as Bruno fucks him as deep as he can? Is he on all fours, face buried in his pillow and hands in his sheets while Bruno fucks him hard from behind? Or maybe he's riding him, hands on Bruno's knees, bearing down while Bruno thrusts up. 

  
Probably it's none of these, because these are the ways Jack would like to fuck him: vicious, unforgiving. Probably instead their fingers are entwined, Yusei's legs wrapped around Bruno's waist; or Bruno is kissing the knobs of his spine, or running his fingers through Yusei's hair. Worst of all, they'll be looking into each other's eyes, typical romance novel bullshit.

  
Yusei's sounds are getting more desperate now; Jack can hear Bruno's hips hitting his ass, the bedsprings creaking in time, erratic, no longer a staccato marching beat. Finally Yusei comes with a shout, quickly stifled, and Bruno with a whimper. Jack is still stroking his cock, imagining Yusei on his back, fucked wide open, dripping onto his bedcovers. 

  
A moment later he comes, weakly; as his come trickles over his knuckles, he can hear the two of them whispering—clandestine things—and Jack realizes just how alone he really is.


End file.
